A glimps of Prebendal House and its communal gardens from Parson’s Fee, near Saint Mary’s Church, Aylesbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
I was in Aylesbury for an hour or two the other day, more by chance than intention. But the town centre is always a charming place to visit with its timber-framed buildings, cobbled streets and an impressive mediaeval parish church, Saint Mary’s.
Many people are a little surprised that Aylesbury is the county town of Buckinghamshire, and not Buckinghamshire – or, perhaps, even Milton Keynes. Names can still be deceptive: Buckingham Hospital is in Buckingham, but the Royal Buckinghamshire Hospital is in Aylesbury.
The name Aylesbury is thought to be derived from ‘Aigle’s Burgh’, meaning hill town or fort. A number of pre-Roman settlements in the area are believed to date back to ca 650 BCE, and Aylesbury later grew up inside these defences.
There has been a church on the site of Saint Mary’s Church since the 12th century. It was extended throughout the 14th and 15th centuries, and the 15th century perpendicular west window is still in situ. The church was completely restored by Sir Gilbert Scott (1811-1878) in the 19th century.
Aylesbury was made the new county town of Buckinghamshire by Henry VIII in 1529. At the time, Aylesbury Manor was owned by Thomas Boleyn, the father of Anne Boleyn, and it was said the king made the change to buy the approval of the Boylen family. The town was given a charter and borough status in 1554 by Mary Tudor to show her appreciation for its loyalty when Aylesbury declared her queen against the competing claims of Lady Jane Grey.
The town played a key part in the English Civil War. The Battle of Aylesbury was led by Oliver Cromwell’s cousin John Hampden, and was fought on nearby Holman’s Bridge in 1642.
As the centre of local government, a starting a period of building development in Aylesbury in the late 18th century, with many civic and residential buildings.
Prebendal House on a street named Parson’s Fee is associated with the Prebendaries of Aylesbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Walking through the cobbled streets to the south and west of Saint Mary’s Church, I glimpsed Prebendal House, a large Grade II*-listed Georgian house set in communal gardens in a private enclave at the end of a street named Parson’s Fee. This is a charming street with timber-framed cottages and runs between Castle Street and Church Street, within the historic Conservation Area of the old town.
Aylesbury remained a feudal manor until the 13th century when new smaller landholdings were formed. These new small manors created by royal grant were often known as fees: Aylesbury had several fees, including the Castle Fee held by the principal lord of the manor of Aylesbury; Otterer’s Fee, granted to the king’s otter hunter; and Church Fee, endowed to the church. Aylesbury had a small degree of autonomy as a prebend of the Diocese of Lincoln, and the Church Fee, which was controlled by the priest of Aylesbury, and Church Fee came to be known as Parson’s Fee.
As its name indicates, Prebendal House was originally associated with the church, and it has later associations with figures of national importance. A Saxon nunnery may have stood on the site in an earlier age. The prebendaries of Aylesbury can be traced back to Ralph in 1092, when the prebend of Aylesbury was attached to the See of Lincoln.
However, the first record of Prebendal House dates from 1656, when it was a stone and timber building. The house was built in several phases, and elements from each phase survive within its fabric. Many of the original interior spaces retain their period fixtures and fittings. The cellars seem to have survived from a 17th century house that was the precursor to the 18th century house.
The present house was built in the early 18th century and extensively modified by its most notable resident, John Wilkes (1725-1797), MP for Aylesbury in 1757-1764. Wilkes came into possession of an estate and income in Buckinghamshire in 1747 when he married Mary Meade (1715-1784) and he lived in Prebendal House from the mid-1750s until he died.
Wilkes was a radical politician and spent time in the Tower of London in 1763 when he was accused of seditious libel after he published inflammatory pamphlets attacking George III and prominent members of his administration. He was released after 15,000 people marched the streets of London in the ‘Wilkes and Liberty’ marches.
Wilkes is remembered as a defender of freedom of speech and personal liberties, and is known for his charitable donations. He was associated with Sir Francis Dashwood of West Wycombe and the infamous Hell Fire Club at West Wycombe Park and the Hell Fire Caves.
The entrance gateway to the Prebendal House is a Grade II listed building (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Prebendal House is a handsome stuccoed building, and the entrance has grand classical proportions with a portico of ionic columns. The house had been a school and then offices before it was converted into apartments in recent years, but most of its original fabric has been maintained.
A communal hallway with a cantilevered staircase and intricately carved panelling leads to the second floor of the house. The interior features include generous ceiling heights, arts and crafts fireplaces, far-reaching views over Saint Mary’s Church and out to the surrounding countryside and the Chiltern Hills.
Access to the house is by a brick-built gatehouse, incorporated by John Wilkes during his time at the house. The communal gardens of about 1.25 acres include ancient trees and mature planting.
Prebendal House was a school before being converted into apartments (Photograph courtesy Chancellors, Aylesbury)
Nearby, at Prebendal Court to the north of Prebendal House and facing onto Nelson Terreace, a plaque placed by the Aylesbury Society on an apartment block in the development recalls how an Iron Age hillfort ditch dating from 650 BCE was excavated on the site in 1985.
The findings suggest the site of Prebendal House represents the southern continuation of the western line of the Iron Age and later Saxon defensive circuit. The remaining deposits and structures were associated with the construction of Prebendal House and the landscaping of the gardens from the 18th century onwards.
As for the Prebendaries of Aylesbury, they continued to hold office for centuries. They included Roger de Wenesham who became Bishop of Lichfield and died in 1257.
Percival de Lavinia, who was Prebendary of Aylesbury in 1285, was also the Archdeacon of Buckingham in 1270. His brother Ottobuono de’ Fieschi became Pope as Pope Adrian V on 11 July 1276, but died on 18 August 1276 before even being ordained priest. In the Divine Comedy, Dante meets Adrian V in the fifth terrace of Purgatorio, where Adrian V is being cleansed of the vice of avarice.
John Hacket (1608-1670), who became Prebendary of Aylesbury in 1623, was appointed Bishop of Lichfield after the restoration of Charles II, and was responsible for rebuilding Lichfield Cathedral.
Since John Pretyman died in 1842, the Prebendaries of Aylesbury have been honorary canons. But for many centuries before that they had no associations with Prebendal House.
A plaque at Prebendal Court recalls an Iron Age hillfort ditch (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
05 August 2025
Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
88, Tuesday 5 August 2025
‘He made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side’ (Matthew 14: 22) … a boat on the other side of the Ouse in Old Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII, 3 August 2025). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Oswald (642), King of Northumbria, Martyr.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
A boat in the small harbour in Loughshinny in north Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Matthew 14: 22-36 (NRSVA):
22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
28 Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ 29 He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’ 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
34 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. 35 After the people of that place recognized him, they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, 36 and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
A boat full of tourists off the coast of Crete … is the only difference between tourism and people smuggling the way people pay? Or is it the difference between present pleasures and future hopes? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection
In recent months, I have enjoyed being on boats in Sarawak and Singapore, barge trips on the Grand union Canal, and watching rowers and boats in York, on the Backs in Cambridge and on the river in Oxford. I even had the pleasure many years ago of one college boat club in Cambridge asking to use one of my photographs in a fundraising drive.
It is almost 60 years since I first went rowing as a teenager on Lough Ramor in Virginia. But I had long thought that I would be left regretting that I had gone to Cambridge as a student too late in life to learn, or to re-learn how to row.
I had come to enjoy rowing as a sport and an activity, but in a very passive way.
Then, shortly after I arrived in Askeaton in 2017, one evening, as I was standing at a slipway by the banks of the Rover Deel, I was invited suddenly and unexpectedly to get into a boat and to row.
I was fearless. It was a pleasure I had often hoped for and wished for. And for almost an hour, we rowed upstream, under the bridge at Askeaton, and as far as the castle, and then downstream past the factory, although not as far as the estuary. When I suggested that I might be too old to learn, or re-learn, how to row, I was told brusquely and with humour that once I stopped learning I had stopped living.
Later that same week, I watched children and teenagers hop in and out of boats, freely and fearlessly, confident of their own ability and the ability of those who were training them.
Fearlessly. But as I was messing about on boats in Crete some weeks earlier, hopping on and off them in the sun as I visited smaller islands and lagoons, I thought of how this was a pleasure that I was paying for and wondered but how many refugees were full of fear as they boarded boats in the dark trying to arrive on Greek islands, having paid exorbitantly for the risk and the dangers.
Fearlessly. What are your worst fears?
I know, at present, many of us have fears arising out of the wars between Russia and Ukraine, the wars involving Israel in Gaza, and the global insecurity created by the mercurial decision making by the Trump regime.
As we grow up and mature, we tend to have fewer fears of the outside world, and as adults we begin to cope with the fears we once had as children, by turning threats into opportunities.
The fears I had as a child – of snakes, of the wind, of storms at sea, of lightning – are no longer the stuff of recurring nightmares they were as a child. I have learned to be cautious, to be sensible and to keep my distance, and to be in awe of God’s creation.
But most of us have recurring dreams that are vivid and that have themes that keep repeating themselves. They fall into a number of genres, and most psychotherapists identify a number of these types of dreams that most of us deal with in our sleep at various stages in adult life.
They include dreams about:
• Drowning.
• Finding myself unprepared for a major function or event, whether it is social or work-related.
• Flying or floating in the air, but then falling suddenly.
• Being caught naked in public.
• Missing a train, a bus or a plane.
• Caught in loos or lifts that do not work, or that overwork themselves.
• Calling out in a crowd but failing to vocalise my scream or not being heard in the crowd or recognised.
• Falling, falling into an abyss.
There are others. But in sleep the brain can act as a filter or filing cabinet, helping us to process, deal with and put aside what we have found difficult to understand in our waking hours, or to try to find ways of dealing with our lack of confidence, feelings of inadequacy, with the ways we confuse gaining attention with receiving love, or with our needs to be accepted, affirmed and loved.
Saint Peter’s plight in the Gospel reading (Matthew 14: 22-36) at the Eucharist today seems to be the working out of a constant, recurring, vivid dream of the type that many of us experience at some stage: the feelings of drowning, floating and falling suddenly, being in a crowd and yet alone, calling out and not being heard, or not being recognised for who we are.
Peter sees Christ walking on the lake or floating effortlessly above the water. At first, he thinks he is seeing a ghost. But then Christ calls to him, and Saint Peter responds.
Once he recognises Christ, Saint Peter gets out of the boat, starts walking on the water, and comes towards Christ. But he loses his confidence when he notices the strong wind, he is frightened, and he begins to sink.
He cries out: ‘Lord, save me.’ Christ immediately reaches out his hand and catches him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’
They get back into the boat, the wind ceases. And those in the boat worship him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
Was the sight of Christ walking on the water an illusion?
Was Peter’s idea that he could walk on the water the product of an over-worked mind while it was sleeping?
Did he realise he was unprepared for the great encounter?
Did the wind cease when he woke from the dream?
All of these questions are over-analytical and fail to deal with the real encounter that takes place.
Even before the Resurrection, in his frailty, in his weakness, in his humble humanity, Saint Peter calls out to Christ: ‘Lord, save me’ (verse 30).
Do the others in the boat fall down at Christ’s feet and worship him because he can walk on water? Because he can lift a drowning man out of the depths? Or because they recognise that in Christ they can find the end to all their worst dreams and nightmares?
In this come-and-go summer, we know too, as they say, to expect the unexpected. On a few occasions, black clouds have moved across our rivers. The weather could turn, the waters could become choppy, and this can be a frightening experience, even on rivers, close to the river bank and close to firm land.
As seasoned boat-handlers, the Disciples know not to try walking on water. They know the risk of sudden storms and swells, and they know the safety of a good boat, as long as it has a good crew.
But since the early history of the Church, the boat has symbolised the Church.
The bark (barque or barchetta) symbolises the Church tossed on the sea of disbelief, worldliness, and persecution but finally reaching safe harbour. Part of the imagery comes from the ark saving Noah’s family during the Flood (I Peter 3: 20-21). Christ protects Peter’s boat and the Disciples on the stormy Sea of Galilee (see also Mark 6: 45-52; John 6 16-21). The mast forms the shape of the Cross.
It is an image that appears in Apostolic Constitutions and the writings of Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria. We still retain the word nave for the main part of the church, which, architecturally often looks like an up-turned boat.
So, I do would not want any of us to risk walking on water, or to play stupidly in boats on the river or on a lake, and certainly not off the coast or out to see.
But if we are to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to be aware that it comes at the risk of feeling our dreams may be the nightmares of others.
If we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we may need to step out of our safety zones, our comfort zones, and know that this comes with a risk warning.
And if we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to keep our eyes focussed on Christ, and to know that the Church is there to bring us on that journey.
Let us dream dreams, take risks for the Kingdom of God, step outside the box. But let us keep our eyes on Christ and remember that the boat, the Church, is essential for our journey, and let us continue to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.
An icon of the Church as a boat, including Christ, the Apostles and the Church Fathers (Icon: Deacon Matthew Garrett, www.holy-icons.com)
Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 5 August 2025):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 5 August 2025) invites us to pray:
Lord, bless Jocabed, Winston and Isabel as they stand up for justice. Strengthen their advocacy, protect the communities they belong to, and guide us to stand together in faith and action.
The Collect:
Lord God almighty,
who so kindled the faith of King Oswald with your Spirit
that he set up the sign of the cross in his kingdom
and turned his people to the light of Christ:
grant that we, being fired by the same Spirit,
may always bear our cross before the world
and be found faithful servants of the gospel;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post-Communion Prayer:
God our redeemer,
whose Church was strengthened by the blood of your martyr Oswald:
so bind us, in life and death, to Christ’s sacrifice
that our lives, broken and offered with his,
may carry his death and proclaim his resurrection in the world;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect in the Eve of the Transfiguration:
Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
Learning, or re-learning, how to row on the River Deel at Askeaton, Co Limerick
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII, 3 August 2025). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Oswald (642), King of Northumbria, Martyr.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
A boat in the small harbour in Loughshinny in north Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Matthew 14: 22-36 (NRSVA):
22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
28 Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ 29 He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’ 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
34 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. 35 After the people of that place recognized him, they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, 36 and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
A boat full of tourists off the coast of Crete … is the only difference between tourism and people smuggling the way people pay? Or is it the difference between present pleasures and future hopes? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection
In recent months, I have enjoyed being on boats in Sarawak and Singapore, barge trips on the Grand union Canal, and watching rowers and boats in York, on the Backs in Cambridge and on the river in Oxford. I even had the pleasure many years ago of one college boat club in Cambridge asking to use one of my photographs in a fundraising drive.
It is almost 60 years since I first went rowing as a teenager on Lough Ramor in Virginia. But I had long thought that I would be left regretting that I had gone to Cambridge as a student too late in life to learn, or to re-learn how to row.
I had come to enjoy rowing as a sport and an activity, but in a very passive way.
Then, shortly after I arrived in Askeaton in 2017, one evening, as I was standing at a slipway by the banks of the Rover Deel, I was invited suddenly and unexpectedly to get into a boat and to row.
I was fearless. It was a pleasure I had often hoped for and wished for. And for almost an hour, we rowed upstream, under the bridge at Askeaton, and as far as the castle, and then downstream past the factory, although not as far as the estuary. When I suggested that I might be too old to learn, or re-learn, how to row, I was told brusquely and with humour that once I stopped learning I had stopped living.
Later that same week, I watched children and teenagers hop in and out of boats, freely and fearlessly, confident of their own ability and the ability of those who were training them.
Fearlessly. But as I was messing about on boats in Crete some weeks earlier, hopping on and off them in the sun as I visited smaller islands and lagoons, I thought of how this was a pleasure that I was paying for and wondered but how many refugees were full of fear as they boarded boats in the dark trying to arrive on Greek islands, having paid exorbitantly for the risk and the dangers.
Fearlessly. What are your worst fears?
I know, at present, many of us have fears arising out of the wars between Russia and Ukraine, the wars involving Israel in Gaza, and the global insecurity created by the mercurial decision making by the Trump regime.
As we grow up and mature, we tend to have fewer fears of the outside world, and as adults we begin to cope with the fears we once had as children, by turning threats into opportunities.
The fears I had as a child – of snakes, of the wind, of storms at sea, of lightning – are no longer the stuff of recurring nightmares they were as a child. I have learned to be cautious, to be sensible and to keep my distance, and to be in awe of God’s creation.
But most of us have recurring dreams that are vivid and that have themes that keep repeating themselves. They fall into a number of genres, and most psychotherapists identify a number of these types of dreams that most of us deal with in our sleep at various stages in adult life.
They include dreams about:
• Drowning.
• Finding myself unprepared for a major function or event, whether it is social or work-related.
• Flying or floating in the air, but then falling suddenly.
• Being caught naked in public.
• Missing a train, a bus or a plane.
• Caught in loos or lifts that do not work, or that overwork themselves.
• Calling out in a crowd but failing to vocalise my scream or not being heard in the crowd or recognised.
• Falling, falling into an abyss.
There are others. But in sleep the brain can act as a filter or filing cabinet, helping us to process, deal with and put aside what we have found difficult to understand in our waking hours, or to try to find ways of dealing with our lack of confidence, feelings of inadequacy, with the ways we confuse gaining attention with receiving love, or with our needs to be accepted, affirmed and loved.
Saint Peter’s plight in the Gospel reading (Matthew 14: 22-36) at the Eucharist today seems to be the working out of a constant, recurring, vivid dream of the type that many of us experience at some stage: the feelings of drowning, floating and falling suddenly, being in a crowd and yet alone, calling out and not being heard, or not being recognised for who we are.
Peter sees Christ walking on the lake or floating effortlessly above the water. At first, he thinks he is seeing a ghost. But then Christ calls to him, and Saint Peter responds.
Once he recognises Christ, Saint Peter gets out of the boat, starts walking on the water, and comes towards Christ. But he loses his confidence when he notices the strong wind, he is frightened, and he begins to sink.
He cries out: ‘Lord, save me.’ Christ immediately reaches out his hand and catches him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’
They get back into the boat, the wind ceases. And those in the boat worship him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
Was the sight of Christ walking on the water an illusion?
Was Peter’s idea that he could walk on the water the product of an over-worked mind while it was sleeping?
Did he realise he was unprepared for the great encounter?
Did the wind cease when he woke from the dream?
All of these questions are over-analytical and fail to deal with the real encounter that takes place.
Even before the Resurrection, in his frailty, in his weakness, in his humble humanity, Saint Peter calls out to Christ: ‘Lord, save me’ (verse 30).
Do the others in the boat fall down at Christ’s feet and worship him because he can walk on water? Because he can lift a drowning man out of the depths? Or because they recognise that in Christ they can find the end to all their worst dreams and nightmares?
In this come-and-go summer, we know too, as they say, to expect the unexpected. On a few occasions, black clouds have moved across our rivers. The weather could turn, the waters could become choppy, and this can be a frightening experience, even on rivers, close to the river bank and close to firm land.
As seasoned boat-handlers, the Disciples know not to try walking on water. They know the risk of sudden storms and swells, and they know the safety of a good boat, as long as it has a good crew.
But since the early history of the Church, the boat has symbolised the Church.
The bark (barque or barchetta) symbolises the Church tossed on the sea of disbelief, worldliness, and persecution but finally reaching safe harbour. Part of the imagery comes from the ark saving Noah’s family during the Flood (I Peter 3: 20-21). Christ protects Peter’s boat and the Disciples on the stormy Sea of Galilee (see also Mark 6: 45-52; John 6 16-21). The mast forms the shape of the Cross.
It is an image that appears in Apostolic Constitutions and the writings of Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria. We still retain the word nave for the main part of the church, which, architecturally often looks like an up-turned boat.
So, I do would not want any of us to risk walking on water, or to play stupidly in boats on the river or on a lake, and certainly not off the coast or out to see.
But if we are to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to be aware that it comes at the risk of feeling our dreams may be the nightmares of others.
If we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we may need to step out of our safety zones, our comfort zones, and know that this comes with a risk warning.
And if we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to keep our eyes focussed on Christ, and to know that the Church is there to bring us on that journey.
Let us dream dreams, take risks for the Kingdom of God, step outside the box. But let us keep our eyes on Christ and remember that the boat, the Church, is essential for our journey, and let us continue to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.

Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 5 August 2025):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 5 August 2025) invites us to pray:
Lord, bless Jocabed, Winston and Isabel as they stand up for justice. Strengthen their advocacy, protect the communities they belong to, and guide us to stand together in faith and action.
The Collect:
Lord God almighty,
who so kindled the faith of King Oswald with your Spirit
that he set up the sign of the cross in his kingdom
and turned his people to the light of Christ:
grant that we, being fired by the same Spirit,
may always bear our cross before the world
and be found faithful servants of the gospel;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post-Communion Prayer:
God our redeemer,
whose Church was strengthened by the blood of your martyr Oswald:
so bind us, in life and death, to Christ’s sacrifice
that our lives, broken and offered with his,
may carry his death and proclaim his resurrection in the world;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect in the Eve of the Transfiguration:
Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
Learning, or re-learning, how to row on the River Deel at Askeaton, Co Limerick
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
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